Poof
by Foxy'sGirl
Summary: Homework is hard, and sometimes the only logical solution is a shower break.


**Hey guys, this is the one-shot in association with Chasing Thunderstorms/Stages of Grief that I promised. If you haven't read either of those stories, but are interested in modern, semi-public, three-legged shower sex, read on, I believe it will stand alright on its own! **

00000

Astrid pushes into her dorm room, dodging her roommate Ruff's winter boots that act as a near constant trip wire. The taller blonde looks up from her homework and nods a greeting at Astrid, who flops onto her bed, toeing her running shoes off and staring at the ceiling. She knows it's all just running, it's the same motion and sport she's been doing for years, but college-level is harder.

"How was practice?" Ruff sing-songs after a quiet moment and Astrid shrugs.

"I used to like running up hills, there was something wrong with me."

"Took you long enough to figure that one out," Ruff laughs and Astrid rolls her eyes, propping herself up on her elbows and glaring across the room.

"You're so funny," she sighs and continues. "And you're staying with Fishlegs tonight, right?" Astrid tries to sound nonchalant, but she can still feel herself flush when Ruff quirks an eyebrow at her.

"Why? Hot night masturbating or something?"

"Hiccup is coming up to help me study for that chemistry test I have on Monday," she says simply and her roommate grins so widely it looks painful. "Stop, and we're going to be _studying_. And the last time he slept here while you were here, you made fun of him because he likes to be little spoon."

"It's sort of ridiculous, you look like a kids backpack on a ladder," Ruff shrugs.

"Dude, I'm a _jetpack_," Astrid glowers. "And it's warm anyway…and I don't care, it didn't bug me, but he's not going to stay unless you bug out."

"Right, and you have absolutely no interest in using the room for anything else while I'm gone," the girl puts her book down and sits forward on her twin bed, rubbing her hands together in that signature, about-to-embarrass-someone motion. "Thinking about christening the desk? Or maybe the windowsill?" She muses and Astrid rolls her eyes.

"You think we haven't christened the windowsill yet? Amateur."

"No way, you actually beat me and Fish to that one," Ruff frowns and Astrid is suddenly glad for the jar of disinfecting wipes on the floor of her closet.

"You're my best friend, but I'm going to _not_ picture you guys doing that three feet from where I sleep."

"What's this three feet nonsense?" Astrid sits back, eyes wide.

"You didn't—"

"We washed your sheets."

"I'm so getting you back for that," Astrid grumbles after a quiet moment and Ruff laughs.

"So how is everything going with Hiccup really? Like all that banging stuff is alright?" She asks with some strange irreverent concern.

"The _banging stuff _is fine," Astrid sits up, pulling the hair tie out of her practice damp hair and combing the knots out as best as she can.

"Just fine?"

"Ok, it's pretty great," she smiles, almost gushing. It's hard having that one socially taboo topic tucked away so soon after finally letting absolutely everything out.

"Great, huh? Who called that one?" Ruff self-congratulates, pumping an obnoxious fist in the air and hooting loudly enough that their neighbors knock on the wall.

"Look, don't expect me to be happy that you've been pondering sex with my boyfriend longer than me," Astrid starts, tone indignant before laughing.

In her opinion, people who haven't pondered sex with Hiccup are sorely missing out.

"Someone had to get _that_ ball rolling…" Ruff looks at her roommate before looking at the floor and toeing a probably dirty sock. "By the way, can you two like do it standing up?"

Astrid throws a pillow across the room before really thinking and it broad-sides Ruff's face.

She laughs and holds her arms up as a tentative shield.

"Is that a serious question? Or are you just looking for an excuse to say _stump_?"

"If I wanted an excuse to say stump, I'd be asking a lot kinkier questions," Ruff laughs, stuffing Astrid's pillow into a tiny ball in her hand and preparing to throw it. Astrid dodges falsely, waiting for the toss.

"Are you scared or are you going to throw it?"

"It's a serious question," Ruff chucks the balled up pillow and Astrid catches it as it unfurls in the air, slowing down dramatically.

"Yes, we can and we do," Astrid answers, rolling her eyes and sitting back. "Honestly, there's something hot about the whole 'nothing on but the leg' look," she laughs, now almost comfortable with the feeling of opening up to her friend.

Plus, she might explode if she doesn't get to tell anyone about how completely _magical_ her boyfriend is. Even just thinking about it is getting her way too excited for all the fun activities they won't have time for.

Just another reason to despise Chemistry, it's keeping her from stripping Hiccup naked as soon as he walks through the door.

"Huh," Ruff muses, stroking an imaginary beard on her smooth chin. "I can see that. It'd be like having sex with a pirate…but like a futuristic pirate. Hiccup's new name is space-pirate." She declares and Astrid laughs.

"Right, because it's not like Hiccup is already a nickname."

"I think I have a new fetish for pirates," Ruff laughs, still seated on her original train of thought. "I should get Fishlegs an eye-patch—"

"Did I say I wanted to hear this?" If it weren't Astrid, the almost delicate laugh would be a giggle.

"I don't know, maybe we can relay Hiccup some pointers," Ruff muses and Astrid rolls her eyes.

"He needs no pointers."

"Did Fishlegs give him a copy of the diagram?"

"Diagram?" Astrid sits up too straight, trying to hold in a bark of laughter. "Fishlegs has a diagram?" Ruff nods, snickering. "Like a diagram of…your vag or something?"

"I don't think it's _me_, I think it's just like…an every-vagina," Ruff admits, her snicker escalating as Astrid bends forward, laughing heartily enough that her stomach starts to ache. She gasps a deep, almost desperate breath and sits up, still hugging herself.

"I don't think Hiccup has a diagram," an errant snicker sneaks out and Ruff rolls her eyes.

"It's not…I mean, at first I thought it was weird, but he's doing something right, so I stopped mocking him for it." She grins wolfishly, "Like I bet you don't mock Hiccup for _asking_ every time he touches you." Astrid's mouth falls open aghast. "I mean, what's that like? 'Can I touch your bra now? Please'—" Ruff prattles in an exaggerated nasal tone.

The pillow comes out of nowhere and slaps Ruff across the face.

"He does not ask every time he does something!"

"So every other time?" Ruff jokes, staring unflinching into Astrid's glare. "What? He's _not_ insanely timid?" Her face falls into serious surprise and Astrid nods.

"He makes fun of _you_," she rolls her eyes, and Ruff shrugs in reluctant agreement. "He's not timid at all. I mean, at first he was always asking how _every_ little thing felt, but now he's got it figured out."

"Can I ask—Who am I kidding, I'm going to ask anyway," Ruff laughs to herself before continuing. "When I picture Hiccup naked—"

"Why the hell are you picturing Hiccup naked?" Astrid almost shrieks, and suddenly this is a lot less funny.

"I picture everyone naked," Ruff defends and Astrid glares. "I mean, even my brother. It's a curse, trust me." The shorter girl's glare deepens. "I'm picturing you naked right now. Seriously, you should really shave—"

"This isn't going to stop until I answer the question about naked Hiccup, is it?" Ruff shakes her head and Astrid sighs. As awkward as this is, she's more than used to it at this point and…well, all this talk about a naked Hiccup is making her want one. "Go ahead."

"I mean, is his dick proportional? Like is it really skinny like him, or is it where all the extra girth disappeared to?" Ruff asks with a straight face and Astrid stares at her evenly, trying to decide if this is the question of legitimate concern. "Oh god, does he have a _chode_? Hiccup has a _chode_!" She starts, her voice ramping up until the neighbors bang on the wall again.

"Shh!" Astrid tries to be stern, but can't help but laugh, more mildly annoyed than amused. "He does not have a chode. It's…" she stops for a second, trying to think of how little she can get away with revealing, and how much she disturbingly _wants_ to reveal. "I don't know. It's not a chode, it's like—and don't even dare call him a pencil dick while I think about this—it's like…" she holds her thumb and pinky together in a circle after a moment of deliberation and holds it in Ruff's general direction. "So if you're insisting on imagining him _naked_, at least _hang_ him right."

"So he's _hung_ then?"

"Shut up," Astrid laughs, embarrassed. "And it's how he uses it, not the—"

"Weapon," Ruff interjects with a guffaw.

"Fine, it's not the _weapon_."

Ruff stares at her friend for a second, smile softening slightly.

"All jokes aside, I'm glad you're happy."

"Thanks Ruff," Astrid smiles awkwardly, shoving her hair off of her forehead. "I'm going to go shower," she stands, feeling equal parts loved and nervous, and wondering if this is what it might be like to have a sister.

A very loud, desperately inappropriate sister who thinks about penises more than anyone really should, but a sister all the same.

"Aww yeah, go get smelling nice for space-pirate," Ruff cackles, picking her textbook back up and tracing the line she's reading with a dirt-caked fingernail.

Ok, not a sister. Maybe a close cousin.

00000

"So you're telling me that electrons are essentially massless according to the periodic table, but they somehow have speed, and they literally spontaneously _poof_ in and out of existence, so you can't ever tell where they actually are?" Astrid asks, too loudly for two in the morning as she pounds a fist on her chemistry book, which is sitting between them on her dorm bed.

"When you say it like that—" Hiccup starts gently, trying to comfort his distraught girlfriend.

"_Poof_." Astrid cuts him off, her face flushed and irritated as her hand starts to shake.

"Maybe we should just go to sleep," he offers quietly, cautiously gentle as he picks up her book and sets it on the desk. He scoots a little closer, more than a little strung out himself as he puts his hand on her bent knee.

When Astrid asked him to come up on a Saturday to study for a test on Monday, he thought it would be a piece of cake. It'd take an hour, and then they'd have a night alone in a bedroom by themselves for once, without feeling guilty for shutting the dogs in the hallway.

Hiccup will be so overwhelmingly relieved when he never has to try and teach his girlfriend science ever again.

"So, just let me get this absolutely straight," she stares at his hand on her leg for a second before holding her hands out as a sign to stop him talking as she tries to shove the facts past her logical barrier. "Matter is anything that has mass and takes up space," he nods, "and it's made up of protons, neutrons, and electrons," he resists the urge to further complicate the stipulation. "But electrons are massless matter what tae up no space and _poof_ in and out of existence?"

"Ok, that's enough studying for tonight," Hiccup stands on his sole right foot, having ditched his prosthetic in the name of comfort once Astrid absolutely assured him that Ruff was gone for the night. Being one-legged around his girlfriend's roommate is like being a mouse around a mischievous cat. "Come on, you need some sleep," she looks at him like her exhausted, throbbing brain is putting physical pressure on her skull.

"But matter can't be created or destroyed," she lists and he bites his lip from mentioning E=mc^2. "So how can electrons _poof_? Why don't we ever know where they are?" She runs a hand back through those perpetually too long bangs and groans. "Where the hell do they go?"

"I don't think that'll be on your test."

"Shut _up_." She shoves to her feet and paces a tiny, anxious circle on her markedly cleaner side of the floor. Hiccup pulls down the sheets on her bed before carefully hopping in her direction. He braces himself, and probably her, with warm hands on her shoulders and she looks up at him, blue eyes wide and distraught.

"Tomorrow, we're going to go over just the stuff that'll actually be on your test, alright?" He suggests. "And you can memorize it, and get an A, and move on."

If he were less mature, and she were less frightening when angry, he would point out the glaringly obvious graphite smear along the bridge of her nose. It's more cute than anything, but she'd punch him, and then they'd probably end up having sex and they wouldn't sleep at all.

Sex.

He'd avoided thinking about it too much, but suddenly it hits him over the head like a mallet, with the bony ridges of her narrow shoulders pressing into his palms. But it's probably not going to happen tonight.

He's tired, she's tired. She's still dwelling over electrons.

Last time he checked, electrons really don't get Astrid going…and that's a real _negative_.

He shakes his head to clear it and focuses on her still lost expression.

"I want to understand it though," she sighs, shoulders slumping as her forehead falls into his collarbone almost painfully. "It shouldn't be this hard."

"You're overthinking it," he encourages, gently rubbing her unhealthily tense shoulders as he leans against her miraculously still steady form. "Tomorrow, I'm sure it'll make more sense." He rests his chin on top of her head and she hugs him too tightly, threatening to squeeze the air from his lungs.

"You're kind of wasting your weekend here," she sighs, tone grateful beneath embarrassment. She should understand this. It's not too hard. Everyone else understands it.

"I'm not wasting my weekend," he assures her, hand rubbing down to rest warmly against her lower back. "If I were home right now, I'd probably be getting slobbered on for not playing enough fetch with Toothless. Or Spike would be elbowing me in the gut trying to fit on my lap."

"I think you'd probably be asleep though," she checks her watch, frowning at the time before a tantalizing idea flickers to life on the back of her tongue.

Everyone on her floor was going to see some movie tonight, and the people who didn't go are probably out partying. They might be the only two people awake in their vicinity…

"Well, that part does sound alright," he yawns and tries to nudge her toward the bed. At least he gets to sleep with her, and there's always the morning. She stands up straighter and grins at him.

"I'm going to go take a shower," she announces brightly, suddenly amazingly awake as she bends down and tugs her socks off of her feet. Hiccup shrugs at the change in her energy level and leans back, placing a cautious hand on her bedframe and swinging to sit on the edge of the bed. While he's not a fan of the wet hair, he's not necessarily upset about the clean, still damp Astrid climbing into bed with him. "So, come on." She stands in front of him, hands on her hips as her smile becomes downright mischievous.

"What?" He perks up like someone poured a cup of hot coffee over his head, gurgling in the manliest way possible as Astrid throws her shirt over her head and into her hamper before shoving down her pants with a wiggle that makes him squeak.

"Come on, let's go take a shower," she urges, grabbing his prosthetic from the floor and setting it on his thighs. He stares at her, wondering just how naked she'll be before she drops this strangely appetizing idea.

How have they not tried it in the shower? It seems like somewhere they would have ended up by this point. He's never seen her in the shower, and imagining it threatens to short out something crucial. He gulps and something that has been very lonely for the last almost three weeks springs to rock hard attention between his legs.

Nineteen and a half days is too goddamn long.

Astrid reaches around her back and unhooks her bra, holding it teasingly against her chest and dancing a few steps backwards.

"Come on…" she sing-songs, slowly sliding the loose bra off of her hands and tossing it in the hamper. Her fingers slip into the sides of her underwear and she takes a slow step towards him, almost pulling down that last barrier. He reaches out and grabs her shoulder, half standing to kiss her, and she ducks away at the last moment, ducking away and positively _strutting_ backwards with too seductive grin.

He flops back to sit with an ungainly grunt, tongue flapping as he finds absolutely nothing to say for one of the first times in his life. She turns her back to him and artfully bends over, sticking her ass pointedly towards him as she tugs her underwear down, laughing at his slack jawed expression and tossing them into his lap.

"Get over here," he tells her, voice suddenly half a husky octave deeper as he tosses his shirt over his head and his prosthetic clatters to the floor. She shakes her head, ignoring the inexplicable pull of that arousal deepened voice.

"No, you come on," she beckons him, dancing around his long arm to grab her room key off of her desk. "Put your leg on and come shower with me."

His mouth goes absolutely dry and he swallows hard.

"If we were going to go shower, why'd you get naked here?" He almost whines, feeling a little more than desperate as his eyes continuously trace up and down her smooth curves, completely outside of his control. He bends down and quickly fastens his prosthetic under the hem of his pants, willing to argue, but ultimately sure that she'll win.

She's naked and grinning at him. What is he supposed to do?

He guesses he could tackle her. That's almost too much and he resists the urge to cross his legs, trying not to think about her proclivity for wrestling as part of foreplay. He can sometimes win now, but he probably can't get her onto the bed, but the floor will be _fine_.

"So that my clothes don't get wet," she explains simply, tugging a bathrobe he hadn't noticed before from her bedframe and pulling it on and dropping her dorm key in an oversized terrycloth pocket. She ties it loosely shut with sure fingers, and he's equal parts disappointed and excited about the return of some of his mental function.

She tugs the throat of the robe a little too far out , and he swallows hard again.

She knows exactly what she's doing, and when he really looks at her, this is almost _hotter_ than when she was naked. She has to know that he can see that tiny, chocolate brown birthmark on her thigh through the slit in her robe, and it's practically begging him to grab her and—

"Fine." He shakes his head, standing and contemplating tackling her one more time. "Should I grab a condom?" He asks and she frowns briefly before answering.

"I think it might just be a pain in the water, we'll figure something out," she grins. His entire face heats up and he feels conspicuously shirtless.

But she's naked under that freaking robe, and he _needs _her.

"Yeah," he stares too hard at her and she flushes, warmth welling between her legs like lava.

"Come on then," she glances towards the _situation_ in his pants, biting her lip and staring him down before dancing backwards and opening her door.

She's kryptonite, and he'd run across campus naked if she wanted him too. Then again, he has Astrid Hofferson stripping and prancing around the room mostly naked for him, so he's not exactly on the losing end of this amazing stick.

"What if there's someone in the hallway?" He asks, trying to hold onto caution as he steps towards her and she grins.

"Why? Embarrassed?" She looks downright hungrily at his chest and he gulps. He really wants to be embarrassed, and there's part of him that wants to grab his shirt off of the floor and hide the monster trying to escape his underwear, but she pulls him along with sweetly invisible magnetic strings.

"Where is everyone?" He asks cautiously as she leads him down the hallway and into the thankfully deserted bathroom.

"It's a Saturday night," she rolls her eyes, stepping around the corner into the hallway of shower stalls. She leads him to her favorite stall near the back and reaches inside, turning on the faucet and fiddling with the temperature while he follows, looking nervously around the bathroom.

She pointedly ignores him walking up beside her and wrapping his arms around her. His fingers work all too fast and she gasps as he unties the robe and grinds himself subtly against the side of her almost exposed rear. She bites back a groan as his palm slips over the skin of her stomach, sliding up to cup her breast. He swipes a skilled thumb across her nipple and plays maddeningly with the hardened nub as she leans sideways into him.

"You're evil," he laughs, kissing up the side of her neck as he pulls the robe off of her shoulders and hangs it from a hook on the wall. She shrugs, more than pleased with herself as she hooks her hand in his belt, unbuckling it and leaving the buckle hanging as she spins to stand under the warm water.

"You really don't seem to mind," she laughs, watching utterly enraptured as he unzips his jeans and pushes them down over narrow hips to pool around mismatched feet. He carefully steps out of them before doing the same with his boxers.

She bites her lip, appreciating the sight and wondering if she should tell him that he does in fact look like a supremely sexy space-pirate. He glances at her, before his eyes trace a maddeningly slow path up and down her body before looking back to her face.

They don't need to say anything and she's in the shower doorway, fingers fisting in his hair as she kisses him sloppily, dragging him back towards the water. He finds her rear and squeezes hard, taking one step to follow her before his prosthetic slides wildly out from under him. She barely avoids biting his lip as she catches him under his armpits, stepping back towards the dry floor.

If all else fails, Hiccup is pretty sure that Astrid has a future in torture.

"Come on, just come out here," he urges, reaching down to smooth an anything but soothing hand over himself. Her bright blue eyes follow his motion and she bites her lip, breathing harder.

"That tile is cold," she whines, stepping back into the water and shivering sympathetically. "I want you in here," she steps back towards him, running shower warm fingers down his goose-pimpled chest and toying with the thatch of auburn curls above his stroking hand. He twitches and closes his eyes, trying to focus on something—anything—else.

"I can't stand in there," he reminds her and she bends down, unclasping his prosthetic and standing, placing his unoccupied hand on her shoulder. He stops stroking himself and looks at her almost desperately.

"I'll help you stand," she tells him, shuffling backwards and smiling when he carefully hops along after her. "I just want to see you all steamed up," she flirts almost innocently, and then they're kissing again, and he's wobbling as he pushes her against the far wall of the shower, the almost too hot water beating down on his study tired back.

She gasps at the cold tile on her back, arching into him and groaning as a water-slick, but callused hand slides down to grip at her hip and pull her against him. They teeter precariously sideways and she spins to press him against the wall, kissing down his neck as his hands land on her shoulders, holding himself steady.

"Astrid," he groans, his head thunking back painfully against the wall as she nips at his collarbone, hand sliding down to grip his shaft and pump slowly.

"Hmm?"

"You might want to—aah, yeah—close the curtain," he tells her, reaching up and grabbing the top of the stall wall for support as she leans away, pulling the curtain shut. Her hand almost flies back to him and continues that maddening stroking as she kisses across his shoulder. His hand leaves the ledge to reach down and palm at her breast and they totter dangerously to the left before she catches him, wedging her foot against the wall.

"Alright?"

"I'm really not liking the physics here," Hiccup slips slightly and grabs tightly to Astrid's shoulders as she shoves back against the wall and nips not at all gently at the base of his neck. That almost too warm water streams over his foot and drips over Astrid's shoulder as she presses against him almost giddily.

"Enough, you're fine," she braces herself against him and kisses him soundly, keeping her feet firmly anchored as he adjusts his grip to stroke at her shoulders. "I don't want to talk about physics. I've had enough science for weeks," she grumbles, supporting him with eager, searching hands on his ribcage.

"What about biology?" He asks when the fear of falling starts to fade into appreciation for the wonderfully naked and dripping wet Astrid leaning so seductively against him.

"Is this an anatomy lesson?" She laughs against the side of his neck, mouthing at the slick damp skin before grinning up at him. "Are you going to label me?"

"I was thinking," he stops talking to kiss her, tongue tangling briefly with hers before he continues, mumbling against her lips, "more of an experimental…" This time they're truly distracted, and his hand slides down to cup her rear, kneading slowly with those shockingly strong hands. She groans into his mouth and runs her fingers through his still mostly dry hair. "Approach," he mumbles against her lips, finishing the statement as his water slick hand slides to stroke the line of her hip.

"Experimental, huh?" Astrid laughs, head lolling sideways as he ducks down and kisses the side of her neck. She moans as her hands curl into his sides and she focuses on keeping herself stable.

"I have a _hypothesis_," he starts, voice low and husky in a completely mystifying way, "that if I do this…" and his hand slides down between her legs, his fingers glancing too expertly across her clit. Her knees buckle and they nearly fall, until Hiccup barely manages to again grab the top of the shower wall. "We'll fall over."

"No, no, I'm good," she insists, locking her knees and nodding near desperately, face flushed from far more than the steam. His member is throbbing in time with his quickened heartbeat against her lower stomach and she bites her lip.

"Why don't we just go back to your room?" He asks hopefully, imagining a hundred different ways to bend her over the bed. She shakes her head, stubborn and too beautiful to be real.

"No, I want it in here." Not that he's dumb enough to say anything, but she doesn't look particularly fierce, kiss swollen lips glowering up at him beneath sopping wet bangs.

"Why?" He asks and she shrugs, trying and failing to hide a burst of sudden embarrassment. His fingers rub soothing circles into her ribs and she wants to tackle him to the floor and ride him into the tile.

"Because," she turns to look at him stridently, "I shower in here every morning, and I want to remember you bending me over every morning." Astrid says it like a dare, and he's suckered again, willing to do anything to let her down. And it's not like she's really asking for anything _too_ terrible…

He's not going to be able to balance, he needs something to hold onto and—

"Bend?...That could work," he suddenly grabs her shoulders and spins her around, tugging her brusquely against him by her hips and pressing on her back until she bends forward at the waist. Her hands fly out at the last second and she catches herself on the opposite wall with open palms, before glaring back at him over her shoulder.

No matter how _hot_ it is, she does not appreciate being man-handled.

"You know, if you just _asked_ me…" She snaps and he ignores her, fixated by the way the warm water trickles down the muscular groove of her spine. He blinks slowly, feeling his downright miserable member prod at the curve of her ass as he rests his hands almost reverently on her hips. "Enjoying the view?" She smirks.

"Huh?" He cocks his head at her.

"I asked if you were enjoying the view," she spreads her fingers against the wall for stability as his shaft pulses too teasingly against her rear.

"Can you get any taller?" He asks, ignoring her question as the destination becomes suddenly important.

"What kind of question—"

"Here," he grabs the bend of her hips and lifts, popping her up onto her toes, which lines him up far too conveniently with that wet, hot welcome. He nudges against her and she gasps, shifting towards him.

There's no need to talk as he reaches down, holding himself still at her entrance and slipping in with one smooth motion. She groans, her head entire back arching as he hits home on the first thrust and her tight tunnel churns around him, gripping him almost painfully sweetly.

He'd had to talk her into trying this position for weeks, she was sure it would be awkward and horrible and _demeaning_. His hand runs reverently up her spine as he grasps her hip and rocks gently inside of her, so purposefully pressing up against the very bottom of her.

She couldn't have been more wrong.

"Right there," she mumbles, head hanging down as she presses back against him, hips twitching against his as he establishes a slow even rhythm, pumping so deeply against all those wet, slick nerve endings. Her toes curl against the tile floor and he adjusts his grip on her hips, tugging her onto him and making her squeal. "Yeah, yeah, yeah…" She urges him, voice breathy and hurried as he rocks into her faster, grunting in a barely there way every time he hilts in her.

She's so impossibly close to him, every muscle in her body clutching around him as they're grinding together, as close as two people can be. She loves the way that his hand smoothes over whatever skin he can, flirting close to the front of her hips, tracing the hard edge of her ribs under the smooth wiry muscles.

"I missed you," Hiccup grunts, gripping at her waist as he closes his eyes, water from the shower intermingling with the blooming sweat on his brow as he focuses on her almost desperate, near constant moans. She whimpers as he thrusts particularly deep, thrusting back against him as her fingers go bone white against the tile.

"Missed you too," she agrees with a near frantic nod. "Harder?" Astrid asks, fingernails scrabbling uselessly against the wall as he complies, pulling her back onto him with a barely stifled groan. "Oooh yeah," she moans, clenching around him as the pushing is almost enough. "Don't stop."

"Here," he mumbles, bending forward further and ignoring the full brunt of the shower on the back of his head as his hand snakes around her front, rubbing clumsily at her water slick clit.

"Ohh yeah, there there there," she groans, hips twitching near frantically as that blissful cliff approaches with alarming speed. He pinches her sensitive nub and it's suddenly enough as she calls out too loudly, elbows buckling.

He slips out of her with a champagne bottle pop as her arms buckle entirely and she falls to jelly-knees, leaving him to tumble forward, barely catching himself with hands on the far wall. She curls her knees under her on the floor, cradling her head against the ground and shaking. Hiccup shifts carefully, tentatively attempting to push himself back to his foot and failing, suddenly dizzy with all the blood his brain isn't getting.

"Astrid?"

"What's up?" She asks, slowly rising to her knees and exhaling a shaky breath. Water pours over his skinny shoulders and dumps on her head in sheets.

"Mind erm, helping me?" He asks with a laugh and she looks at him carefully, expression wonderfully dazed as she slides out from under him and stands against the wall. Her arm tugging across his shoulders is nowhere near as rigid as normal and he can't help but be proud. She pushes him back against the wall and melts against him, pressing her too warm cheek against his chest and listening to his heart-beat.

Her hand wraps around his still hard, mostly clean member and pump slowly. His heart threatens to break out of his chest and she smiles up at him, drowsily elated.

"And your turn," she tells him before so suddenly dropping to her knees in front of him and taking him into her mouth. She can taste the last traces of herself on his skin and she wraps her hand around his base, pumping slowly to meet her lips. His hand lands on her head, so fondly stroking the bangs away from her forehead that she moans around him.

"Yeah," he urges, hips bucking towards her mouth and she plants the heel of her hand against the rise of his hipbone, holding him still against the wall. She hums and his hand fists in her hair.

She hears his head knock against the wall, and is completely unsure whether the moan is pain or pleasure as she begins to bob her head, trying not to gag as the tip of him rhythmically knocks against the back of her throat. Both of his hands are in her hair now, somehow lovingly holding her close, stroking against her ears and temples as his fingers start to shake.

"Close?" She pulls off just enough to mumble against his shaft, running her lips and tongue down his length, sucking at the skin and licking around the head of him.

"Almost there," he mutters, hips rocking subconsciously as she slips him back into her mouth, working with purpose now. He writhes at the newfound vigor, hissing through his teeth as she presses hard enough against his hip to keep him from leaning left.

Hiccup looks down and it's his undoing, watching himself disappear into mouth again and again and again—

He bucks into her mouth and she stays with him, gulping down what she can before pulling away for a much needed breath and grinning up at him. He looks down at her, expression somewhere halfway between relieved and nervous as he sways, drawing her to stand up next to him, pressing him against the wall for security.

"Alright?"

"Eh," he shrugs. "I think—Is my braid somewhere on the floor or something?" He laughs, lulled by the warm water licking at his sides even as his foot tingles numbly, sorely missing the extra support.

"Something," Astrid laughs, yawning quietly and resting her cheek against his chest, kissing an oddly conspicuous freckle and licking at his nipple. He sighs and rests his chin on her head.

"This is nice, but I'm about to fall asleep," He urges, and she nods, reaching back and turning off the water. The room is suddenly too silent and they both laugh, almost whispery snickers echoing off of the tile.

"Yeah, we should probably get out of here," she leans back and peeks around the curtain, stilling and listening for anyone in the hallway outside. "People will be getting back soon…and this is still the girl's bathroom."

"Oh no, I'm a pervert," Hiccup mutters, hands anchored on her shoulders as she helps him outside, kneeling down and lovingly fastening his prosthetic onto the end of his left leg. He holds out her robe and she slides her arms through it, tying it more securely and watching almost demurely as he tugs his boxers and jeans up his wet legs, shaking his hair like a dog and spraying her with lukewarm water droplets.

"Ok, you've been spending too much time with Toothless," she laughs, wiping a terrycloth clad arm over her face and grinning at him.

"Not possible," He grins, wrapping a lanky, relaxed arm around her shoulders and following her carefully across the steam dampened tile. He stops and grins down at her when he sees the row of sinks. "So…what are we going to do to mark your favorite sink?"

00000

**So, I'd really really love you all to tell me how I did on this. This is the first smut I've posted in honestly a couple of years, and I'm pretty nervous…and I'm also still working on the end of Stages of Grief, so any constructive criticism will actually go towards making other scenes a lot better! **

**Also, I know that there was an issue with Chapter 15 of Stages. It randomly fixed itself this morning, so if you gave up, you should go try again! I promise it works this time! **

**Anyway, thank you, and feedback is far beyond appreciated! **


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